Conversations For Transformation

Essays By Laurence Platt

Inspired By The Ideas Of Werner Erhard

And More

Mumm Cuvée, Rutherford, California, USA

July 19, 2006

Throwing off the sheet I pull on shorts and a tee-shirt and walk down
the path through the dunes to the
beach.
Its dry white sand squeaks slightly under my bare feet, punctuating
each step. Specks of phosphorus sparkle in the whitecaps. A full golden
moon
circled with a purple aura lights the cloudless windless starry sky and
bathes the landscape in a clean clear glow.

I amble to the water's edge and stand there with my hands on my hips
letting the warm waves lick my toes. On a whim I breathe in as deeply
as I can, trying to inhale the entire seashore. The tang of salt laden
air opens and cleanses my lungs.

It's one of those nights when
being alive
is its own reward. It's one of those times when all you have to do to
be completely and totally blown away by the beauty of all of
creation
is to open your
eyes
and look. Everywhere you look it's a feast for the
eyes.

There are times like these - perhaps too few of them - when the
voice-over
isn't constantly jabbing at the way it is, constantly undermining the
beauty of
what's so,
the
sacredness,
of the way it really is. This way, out of reach of the jabber, is
clearly the way it always is. For the most part, what it
takes to see it this way is a crap shoot: it's to get it during these
moments when the
voice-over
is on vacation. Being that the
voice-over
is a workaholic, that's almost never.

I'm not a
yogi.
At least I'm not committed to
yoga
as a way of life even though I acknowledge the depth and the profundity
and the joy which comes from its disciplines and practices. A central
tenet of the
yogic tradition
is
quieting
the
mind,
stilling the
mind,
even taming the
mind.
Doing that, or at least trying to do that, was a big part
of my daily routine before I got to know
Werner.
I've got a different
context
for the
mind,
the
voice-over,
now: I leave it alone. It's not
resisted.
It's not changed. It's not
quieted
nor stilled nor tamed. Rather it's allowed to be what it is, whatever
that is ...

What's required is to notice it and to acknowledge it and to leave it
alone. In that way, when I leave it alone it leaves me alone. That's
how I get to be on the
beach
with total openness and bliss and the wonderment of all of
creation
with no
voice-over
jabbing in.
Imagine
taking a
friend
with you to the
beach
but tying her up and gagging her because you want to
quiet
her, to still her, to tame her before you muster the freedom to
experience your experience. Now
imagine
taking a
friend
with you to the
beach,
acknowledging her, thanking her for being with you, and appreciating
her for being your
friend.
In this way, both of you get to revel in the
beach,
the feast.

The most remarkable aspect of all of
creation
for me is this: things are, things can simply be. This
makes me happy. The absolute result of being truly aware of what
is is a sense of exquisite beauty. It's a feast for the
eyes
when you get it this way. It's all gorgeous,
all celestial, all divine.
There's nothing you have to
do to get it
this way other than
create
space for the
voice-over
to be.